#i need to get it on vinyl one of these days
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sketchy-tour · 7 months ago
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Oh I should share more of just little tidbits of myself here more. Show off my collections or give insights on the things I enjoy. I dunno, sometimes I forget I can blab about stuff on here!
Anyway! Yall wanna see the chatterphone I got for Wally??? Because it is the most delightful thing ever and having one fills me with such joy and whimsy!
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LOOK AT THEM! A couple of sillies!!!! He was so MENACING in the box haha. Oh I always wanted one, especially after seeing his lovely acting skills in the movie Skinamarink!
Wanna gather items that remind me of Wally to put all together on the shelf with him along with any other official WH merch I get over time! Rearranged my whole shelf so Wally could have the top all to himself.
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seaofreverie · 3 months ago
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GUUUYYUYSSSD !!!!!
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‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
KIMONO MY HOUSE VINYL!!!!!!
Also funny story which is that when my brother took these to the cashier he said something like "oh... Sparks... they were here one year ago"
#YES THEM BEING THERE IS EXACTLY WHY I TOLD MY BROTHER TO GO THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE ('there' being tower records in japan)#but i find it so funny that the cashier actually remarked on that fact too#anyway. you need to know that i'm feeling so very AAAAHHHH right now. all of these are such a big deal to me#i didn't think i'd actually own KMH ON VINYL at any point#also utterly shocked about the guerilla toss CD. very exciting to have that one too#they're one of my fav bands and i implore everyone who likes unhinged and very experimental and cacophonic rock to check them out#this album (eraser stargazer) isn't the most accessible thing there is out there but i really love it#(i don't even know how to describe it properly. it's just really something to behold anyway)#the plushie is also a gift from my brother!! i'll gladly take any name suggestions for him#oh and also sparks debut album. first album that i own both on CD and vinyl as of today#it's not even that it's my fav sparks album or anything (i do really love it though and it's definitely somewhere in my top ten)#it's just that some albums feel more like they 'fit' with the vinyl format than CD in sound. to me at least#one other example of that besides this one being gratsax#ok i think that's all i have to say about this. one of the most epic hauls of my life that's for sure#OH WAIT one more thing. somewhat unfortunate actually#which is that my brother said he's pretty sure he saw a latte vinyl#but when he passed by that section again like 10 minutes later he already couldn't find it. oh latte.......#it's ok i'll have it one day. i'm really curious what went down there though. did someone really snag it in those 10 minutes???#and yes in case you're worried i did thank my brother profusely for getting me all this#and now i'm going to force him to listen to the TMBG vinyl with me so that he's PREPARED FOR THE CONCERT#that's in 3 months and that he's know about for a year and a half. ok i'm done now#goosepost
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bluenotemagpie · 6 months ago
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catching up on doctor who. surprising nobody, this former theatre kid who had a major beatles phase at the age of 12 and a major doctor who phase at the age of 14 is a big fan of the devil's chord
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hide-your-bugs-away · 7 months ago
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my first ever Discogs excursion has been a roaring success 🙏 SHOUT-OUT TO ANIMALS AND THEIR RECORD PRODUCER IN 1964/1965 🙏🙏🙏
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leslieseveride · 1 year ago
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so many things i wanna buy, so little money in my pocket.
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synechd0che · 2 years ago
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.
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magentagalaxies · 2 years ago
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i have literally done nothing today except think about buddy cole and think about aubrey aubergine and as a result today has been great
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sapsolais · 11 months ago
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'
#man. there's something about trying to nap in your car that REALLY makes you appreciate your bed at the end of the day#need as much bed time as possible#anyway#today was really nice actually#i took my car down to a self serve car wash my dad would take me to when i was younger n#god. it was like 9 am n it was sorta overcast. no one was there. it's sorta tucked between a neighborhood n an auto body lot/center#n. fuck it was one of the most therapeutic things ever actually. you wouldn't Believe#i got *so* lost in it. must've been there for over an hour washing and scrubbing and drying everything over n over n vacuuming the floors n#seats n just. god. i dunno#i slapped the gtn vinyl decal thingy i got on my back window afterwards too :]#it felt good. great even. just to get lost for a lil bit n tuck away someplace quiet. do something with my hands n See the result#immediately afterward. there's something about it#i'll go there again sometime#it's funny to miss and feel fondly of places and memories attatched to someone you Logically dislike y'know#part of me wishes i had more experiences w my dad like that but. i stopped saying yes when i was old enough to realize#that he wasn't all that great of a man. that he wasn't really There for me or knew much about me y'know.#it's a complicated feeling#when you understand Why something happens/is but you also know you owe it to yourself not to excuse it/that you deserved better regardless#hm#just some thoughts before bed i guess#sap says
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jeanmoreaux · 11 months ago
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hi its music anon, hope this isn't annoying you
several other top favorites (it's hard to pick honestly!) for me are growing sideways, new perspective, homesick, orange juice, paul revere can you tell i am a professional life-procrastinator and people-avoider
stick season by noah kahan is quite literally my state of mind all the time like how is there a whole album that perfectly encompasses how i feel my mental health would sound like
also...one of my favorite lyrics is 'I'm still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them' cause I've been thinking about generational trauma for a while now and I found the coincidence of listening to an artist singing about exactly what I was thinking like 👁️
you are not annoying at all!!! i love to hear your thoughts on the album! great picks btw!! nooooo i get it i feel you this album captures my specific brand of mental health as well. very very weird but also very ver validating djdjjdjdj. that lyric absolutely gutted me the first time heard it because YEAH SAME. had to go back and make sure i didn’t mishear 🙈 generational trauma is definitely something that is on my mind a lot too. another one that took me out was come over’s “someday I'm gonna be somebody people want.” to give you one that i love that isn’t quite as….depressing? “remember tellin' me that you thought you were cursed? / i'm in love with every song you've ever heard”. makes me a liddle insane but in a different way. all in all an absolutely mental album. so so fucking good. a real treat.
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s-4pphics · 6 months ago
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candy crush. (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you’re too sweet, and ellie hates it. 
WORD COUNT: 4.3K
WARNINGS: recordshopmanager!ellie, crumblcookiebaker!oc, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a cunt, ocs too sweet, FLUFF?? FROM ME??? HUHHH, crushing, slight suggestive thoughts
A/N: idk where this came from lol
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Ellie’s reorganizing the vinyl selection when a delicate hand lands on her shoulder. “I know your miserable ass doesn’t enjoy company,” Dina hisses in her ear, purposefully hushed, “But you got company.” 
Ellie’s eyebrow quirks with confusion, leaving the earplug that blasts Head like a Hole to dangle over her shoulder. Her eyes glaze over the semi-filled shop, narrowing in on every face until she locks eyes with you from behind the guitar displays. The eye contact only lasts about 1.5 seconds before Dina smacks her leg. 
“Don’t look. You’re gonna make it weird.” Dina quietly snaps from beside her, occupying her hands with some misplaced records. 
“You know her?” 
“I see her around sometimes. I think she works nearby,” Ellie catches her smirking from the corner of her eye, “… I think she likes you.” 
“Fuck off.” 
“I’m dead serious. She’s been staring for the past 10.” 
“At who.” 
“At you, dipshit.” 
Ellie can’t help herself. She takes one experimental glance in your direction; discovers you typing away at your device with a black mask pulled down under your chin, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with worry. Your apron and tiny name tag indicates you probably work somewhere close by, but she can’t pinpoint where. You’re too far and her vision is failing.
“Get her numbe—“
Ellie’s head whips to face Dina, “If you don’t shut up, you’re fired.” 
“Abuse of power,” She snarks in return, “C’mon! She seems so—“
“D-Do you guys have any acoustics for sale?” 
You’re a ninja, for sure. Both girls' heads snap around to face you — who stands a bit too close for Ellie’s liking — phone desperately clutched to your chest and eyes wide as a doe. Mainly locked with Ellie’s before they drop to your name tag.
Crumbl. 2 shops down. 
Fuck. 
“Why, yes!” Dina says excitedly when Ellie doesn’t reply, “Most of ours have been used, but they’re still in great condition. Are you interested in renting or purchasing?” 
“Purchasing… I think.” 
“No problem. I can show you some that we have on display, and if you don’t like those, we have some stocked in the back!” 
Ellie’s forehead creases. Dina has never been this active in making a sale, let alone interacting with any customers. Ellie is always the one who’s forced to pick up her and Riley’s slack in the shop. She catches the light traces of disappointment that overtakes your expression at Dina’s interjection, but eventually, you’re led over to the guitar displays.
Ellie sighs in relief. 
That brief exchange gave Ellie everything she needed to know. She doesn’t find gratification in denying proposals at work, but after months of being hit on by a multitude of customers — the men particularly piss her off— she’ll be as stern as she needs to be to get the point of denial across. Sure, it makes her look like a cunt to the general public, but she’ll take that over being chased after on the clock. No questions asked. 
Ellie assumes that you’ve found what you needed because on your way out, persistent stares are thrown in her direction up until your departure. She dodges them with mastery. 
She would hate to have to embarrass a strip neighbor. 
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Three days later, you stumble upon the record shop once more. Dina isn’t here to save Ellie this time, and Riley’s passing time in the break room. Your uniform is lightly dusted with white, presumably flour, and your mask is down, phone clutched to your chest like it holds all your secrets.
Your mouth drops open around a small smile when you approach the service counter, but Ellie interrupts before you can greet her. 
“What can I help you with?” 
She assumed her annoyance would be guarded by professionalism, but your smile drops at its corners at her tone. A light flinch that Ellie prays is enough to deter you from spending your breaks here. 
It doesn’t. Your eyes still shine like the star that you aren’t. 
“I, um… I actually wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay—“
“Is it regarding the purchase you made a few days ago?” 
Dina slid Ellie a notice on the down payment you made for your used dreadnought since you weren’t able to pay in full. The scolding she received about “taking care of you” whenever you returned made her teeth grind together. 
“N-No. I just—“
“I’d appreciate it if we kept the conversation about that,” Ellie uses the scribbles on her notepad as a distraction, “Did you have any questions regarding the instrument? Or if you’re interested in taking part in the lessons we offer, I could redirect you to Riley. She’s in charge of—“
“I just wanted to see if you were… interested in sampling out some cookie flavors I came up with? I’m a baking and pastry student and—“
“Look,” The tip of Ellie’s tongue sharpens into her cheek, irritation evident when you two are eye-to-eye. “I’m not sure where this proposal is coming from, but frankly, I’m not interested.”
The drop in your expression doesn’t stop Ellie’s relentlessness. 
“I don’t know you, and I don’t know why you thought I’d be a good candidate for… taste-testing, but I’ll politely decline. No thanks.” 
Her declination doesn’t sound polite in the slightest; quite snippy and condescending from your perspective, and it forces your windpipe shut. Only for a second before a strangled gasp leaves your lips. You’re not sure if it’s out of shock or lack of breath, but it aches in your lungs all the same. 
Ellie’s glare sends holes through your back as you rush towards the exit, the small bell singing through the store and alarming your leave. 
All Ellie can hope is that you got the message. 
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It’s a new week, and therefore, a new Crumbl cookie line-up. Dina won’t stop raving about the carrot-cake cookie which doesn’t resemble a cookie at all. It's tiered and way too soft and stacked with icing that’s sweet enough to rot teeth from the gum. 
It reminds Ellie of you, for some reason; Somehow still managing to be a nuisance without trying. 
Even more so now since Dina’s been using her 45 to walk down and see you. To talk to you. Dina has yet to cough up what about — not that Ellie cares. It’s just weird that you two suddenly have so much in common after knowing each other for all of two days maximum. Whenever Dina clocks back in, she tortures Ellie with dramatic retellings of your stories. 
It’s Thursday; a quiet day for the shop that Ellie uses to her advantage when the sun is at its peak. Searching through cheap magazines and playing Candy Crush on her phone. 
What a time for you to come barreling in. The formerly enjoyable shriek of guitar suddenly sounds like nails on a chalkboard at your appearance. No longer are you in all black. You’re in a sundress. An orange one. You look like a popsicle. 
And you bear gifts. Ellie’s mood turns even more sour when she sees two bright yellow gift bags with smiley faces on them and a tray filled with coffee stuffed in your hands. 
“Good morning!” 
You’re smiling, gleaming, and Ellie’s nose turns up. She plucks one of her earplugs out and closes her graphic novel. 
“How can I help you?” 
You set your bag down on the display case of her prized arch top, and she sighs in exasperation. Annoyance sparks when she notices one of the bags has her name on it, flowers and hearts and sparkles surrounding the tag. 
“Can you not put your belongings on the displays, please? I’d have to clean up after you since none of my employees will.” 
You’ve already moved your bags and exclaimed apologies before Ellie could finish her sentence. She’s seconds away from shoving her earplug back in to tune you out, but you’re fast. Persistent. She hates it.
“I’m really sorry about that,” You say gently, and Ellie shrugs you off, “I, um. I-I came to, uh…”
Ellie blinks rapidly, “If you’re here to apologize for last week, don’t bother. It’s not needed.” 
“Not at all! Well, I’m just… I wanted to drop by and—“
“You’ve gotten quite comfortable with just… dropping by. Have you realized that?” 
Ellie’s squint is harsh and scrutinizing, and sorrow overshadows the light in your pupils. 
“Since it’s obvious that you’re not understanding me, I’ll put it like this,” She leans a bit over the counter, front fully pressed against the glass and palms resting on the stainless steel, “I’m not interested in anything you have going on. Stop using your breaks as an excuse to come see me. I don’t wanna go out with you. And I don’t want to do a taste test. Drop it already.” 
Ellie watches your lip quiver with a harshness exclusive only for people like you, tears welting in your eyes and your fingers pinching at the hem of your sundress. Insecurity is practically seeping from your pores, and your gaze drops shamefully to the floor. 
Ellie’s just about to tell you to kick rocks when the STAFF ONLY door swings open and exposes Riley. Her break ended 20 minutes ago. 
“Hey! You’re early!” 
Ellie scoffs, “No, you’re late—“
“Not you. Be quiet,” She waves her off and smiles at you, who’s smiling back at her with guised genuity. A complete 180 from the you seconds ago. Since when were you and Riley on speaking terms? Friends?
She jogs from behind the stand, “Dina told me you weren’t coming til 3!” Riley throws her arms around your shoulders, and your hands tremble where they rest on her forearms. “Are those the goods?” 
“Yeah!” Your voice sounds heavy. Like you’re guarding a breakdown, “I-I had some time so I stopped by a little early.” 
“I got some to spare til Dee gets here. Hang out with m—“
“Actually!” You intervene shakily, “I have some other drop-offs to make. I really appreciate you guys doing this for me.” 
“Are you sure you can’t stay? Watch me get my Food Network judge on?” Riley suddenly points in Ellie’s direction, “Who knows. Sourpuss might even pop a grin once she tries one.” Ellie’s cheeks run red-hot.
“Sorry, Riley. Maybe next time,” You’re already wobbling towards the exit, “But, please call and tell me what you think! Dina, too! Any feedback is appreciated!” 
“I’m sure they’re delicious, Monster!” Riley compliments playfully, “Text me when you’re home!” 
When the door shuts, Ellie sees Riley’s back stiffen at the sight of you frantically wiping your face through the glass. 
“What the fuck did you do.” 
“I didn’t do shit. She’s loitering.” 
“Lo— Oh my fucking god, you’re an embarrassmen—“
“No, she is. Taking up space for no fucking reason to come and see me. She’s loitering—“
“You’re blowing a fuse over fucking cookie samples?” Riley stares at her like she’s nuts, “And not to burst your self-centered bubble, but I told her to come. She’s been asking all the stores on the block if they’d like to taste ‘em.”
Ellie pauses, expression softening only slightly when Riley continues, 
“I told her you don’t like chocolate, so she made a peanut butter version for you.” Riley shakes Ellie's special, slightly smaller bag as a means to taunt her, and the freckled girl’s face burns red. Glows even harsher when her friend throws in, “You cunt. She’s a sweetheart. Not everyone is fucking obsessed with you.” 
Riley leaves Ellie to simmer in her discomfort, slamming the break door shut. The day seems to drag on longer than usual. 
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Ellie’s organizing the break room when she comes across her small baggie that Riley left behind. She would’ve expected her friend to take them home after Ellie’s dramatic blow up, but there it sat on the counter, untouched and jeering. 
Tempting enough for her to rest the broom against the counter and inspect its contents. Wafts of cinnamon and peanut butter hit her through the small opening of the bag, and her heart gives a squeeze. The cookie is iced to perfection — an entire scenery on the light brown canvas. So many flowers and trees and the blue hues of the sky; almost too much detail. It looks printed on. 
You’re artistically talented and the cookie smells divine. 
One nibble wouldn’t hurt. She’s sure the damage she caused is already irreversible. 
But when she cradles the carefully swaddled cookie, a small note falls from beneath the bunched cling wrap. She knows she shouldn’t. She should really, really leave the neatly folded piece of paper where it lays. Down the cookie. Trash the bag. 
She takes the cookie and the note back to her seat at the table. The cookie isn’t what she unravels first. 
“thought I’d make you a separate batch. Riley gave me the heads up about your chocolate disdain. I’m too paranoid to ask for your number in person, so I thought I’d use bait instead. I hope it’s convincing enough. Please let me know if it’s decent. Thank you for tasting.”
Signed with your name and a smiling heart with wings. Ellie’s heart shatters, remaining shards dangling from the rim of her ribcage. She can already see her friends glaring through her chest when they visit the apartment to berate her tomorrow morning. She already knows what they’re going to demand from her, but she’s three steps ahead. 
She ate the entire cookie in two bites right where she sat. It was delicious. Almondy, not too sweet, gently spiced. Probably the best she’s ever had.
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Ellie has never been to Crumbl before. 
The viral spot is always bustling — too crowded and filled with loud teenagers with a sugar rush for her taste. Plus, she’s already on the clock when they first open. But the record shop is closed on Fridays. 
She put an extra bit of care into her appearance. She doesn’t recall the last time she did her hair. Half of it is pinned up and her button-up is neatly pressed. Jitters rustle in the pit of her stomach and her forehead is a bit damp, mainly because she can see you through the goddamn window. 
In uniform, you stand at the register with the same beaming smile from last week, talking and giggling with your coworkers, and Ellie instantly feels guilty. Your day seems off to a great start, and here she is… About to ruin it. She almost turned around at the thought. 
But the small bell above the door blares loud, and your bright smile drops once you recognize her, and with that, her stomach. Ellie mentally notes the bags forming under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. It looks like you haven’t rested for days. Her heart squeezes. 
Your movements turn robotic; stiffly perched on the sides of the iPad stand as your thumb works on the screen. You haven’t looked Ellie’s way since. She approaches the counter with her tail between her legs, fidgeting with her middle finger. 
“Um… hey.” Ellie’s quiet. Out of place. Afraid. 
“What can I get for you?” 
Even with the stiffness, you somehow still manage to sound as soft as a cotton ball, but Ellie’s body locks. The scenario hits her like a brick wall; she’s doing exactly what she accused you of doing to her last week. Bothering her at fucking work. She should’ve never come to your place of business to coddle her ego. She feels like a hypocrite. You certainly see her as one. 
“Um… A cookie?”
“… What flavor.” 
“Uh… peanut butter?” 
You swallow thickly, voice hollow, “That’s not on the menu for this week,” You point towards the display of cookies that were big enough to feed a family, “These are the six we’re serving until Sunday. You can also look at the menu on the screen.” 
Ellie follows your pointing finger. How the fuck does this place work? Weekly flavors? What the fuck does that mean? She quickly examines the names of cookies that flash across the screen: raspberry cheesecake, pink velvet… Mom’s recipe? Odd name for a dessert but she lets it slide. 
“W-What’s your favorite?” 
You’re a baker, for fucks sake. You’d have better taste than anyone, better than her, she’d painfully admit. 
She watches your fingers clench around the screen, tapping mindlessly. 
“Um… raspberry cheesecake.” 
“I’ll get a dozen.” 
“O-Of the same flavor?” 
She shrugs like it’s obvious, “… Yup.” 
You give her one skeptic look before tapping at the screen. “It might be a little wait. About 15 minutes. Do you mind?” 
“No.” 
“Cash or card?” 
“Card, please.” 
More tapping, “That’ll be $41.65. Swipe or tap whenever you're ready.” 
A financial dent over a box of cookies was not on her bucket list. You hand her the receipt, and before you can rush to the kitchen, Ellie exclaims, “When’s your break?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“W— um, when’s your break?” 
Your coworkers are suddenly very interested in Ellie, all four of them eyeing her like venomous hawks. Her cheeks burst into flames. 
“Um… I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” 
And you’re right. Anything involving you is short on Ellie; it was never her business, but a burning in the pit of her stomach desires to learn. Needs to catch you at the right time to give you a proper apology even though she doesn’t deserve the time of day. She doesn’t know what to say. 
You use her floundering as a scapegoat and hustle behind the slamming doors. Just as Ellie rushes to leave empty-handed, one of your employees — Abigail reads across her name-tag, keeps professional, but Ellie’s skin burns with the fire in her eyes. 
“We’ll have those right out for you,” monotone, but gruff. It makes Ellie wonder if you told any of them about her — she doesn’t doubt it. 
“You can wait outside.” 
One stiff nod, and Ellie’s booking it until her feet plant on the packed sidewalk, nearly bumping into a couple with interlocked hands. It takes 25 minutes for the box of cookies to be rigidly placed on the lounge table by another employee. Ellie scurries into her truck with a boiling face and pulls out into the road. 
When she makes it to her apartment, she eats three mini cheesecakes in one sitting.
She sees why they’re your favorite. 
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The following week was filled with glares and curses from Dina and Riley — your newfound friends, evidently. They have a way of making Ellie feel like a worthless dunce. They both have rubbed in the tales of you being a thrill to be around; the life of the party whenever they hang out. 
It makes her nauseous. And sad. 
But her sadness swiftly shifts to bewilderment when she catches you smoking near a lamppost after closing. Still in your uniform with a bag over your shoulder, pants dusted in white, proof of your labor. It’s dark out, the only illumination coming from the light stood tall above you and the orange gleam of your cigarette. The sight shocks her. You didn’t seem like the type. 
Maybe that’s where Ellie went wrong with you: constantly assuming… who you are. Your desires, your intentions with her, her friends. She’ll admit her wrongs, of course. 
But it has to be to you. 
Ellie scares you when she approaches, inhaling the nicotine a bit too roughly because you start heaving. Shoulders hunched and jumping with every cough. 
“Uh — fuck, I’m sorry! I-I thought you could see me coming! I didn’t mean — fuck —“
You’re still choking, but you hiss in between, “What the fuck do you want!” 
“I’m just — I’m sorry about —“
“You’re not — cough — you’re not sorry! You made your point clear. I don’t why you keep — cough cough — following me. I left you alone like you wanted!” 
“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Ellie shrieks in panic. 
It’s a heavy-handed admission. A weighted confession that was said too aggressively given your flinching away from her. She takes an instinctive step forward. 
“Your cookies… tasted fucking incredible. I’m also an asshole.” 
The drag you take from your cig while she rambles is almost comedic. Brows cinched at the middle of your forehead, gauging her. You’re not convinced, but you’re not fleeing like the first time. She takes a leap, and a large step towards you. 
“I feel really… really bad,” Ellie’s much quieter, eyes unwavering and the softest she’s ever shown you, “I shouldn’t have… said all that. To you. I’m just so used to being harassed at work. I’m sorry.” 
Maybe nicotine calms you. Your body language isn’t as taut compared to when Ellie first initiated conversation, and your eyes soften at her reasoning. 
The rasp from your timbre melts her skin like butter. “I didn’t know you went through that. That sucks.”
Ellie shrugs, “I didn’t know you were… nice.” 
She made the mistake of attempting playfulness, “Maybe ‘cuz you wouldn’t let me talk.” You snark while ashing. 
“I’m sorry.” Ellie implores. 
You take one last drag before stomping out the flame. “Me too. For bothering you.” 
Ellie cringes at your choice of words, but nods in acceptance. “Are we, uh… okay, now?”
A small smile grows on your face. It’s cute. Makes your cheeks puff out like a hungry squirrel. 
“We’re good.” You extend a fist out to her, and she connects her own at the knuckles. 
When they drop, Ellie nervously stares at her shoes, “Do you want a ride home?” 
“I’m alright, thanks.” 
“C’mon, I don’t want you waiting out here by yourself.”
You pause before asking, “What’s the catch?” Your brow arches mischievously.
Ellie doesn’t hesitate, “More of those cookies.” 
A giggle escapes you. Soft and airy like a feather. Ellie feels a tight clench in her chest. A thumping from her ribcage. Has your smile always been this vibrant? She mentally kicks herself for not noticing before. 
Ellie escorts you to the passenger's side of her passed down pick-up: opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before starting it up. She learns you’re a metalhead when she cranks the radio to the highest volume. 
… How quickly can crushes develop? 
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Two months. Ellie’s spent two months finding every excuse to spend time with you. She welcomes your visits to the record shop and silently thanks the heavens above when you call after her shift to talk about your day. Listening to your rambles about customers and their weekly cookies has become the highlight of hers. 
She’s also found comfort in watching you fail at playing guitar. You’re adorable whenever you strike an incorrect chord or break a string. She’s more than willing to guide you through your trials: late-night invites to her apartment to practice. One of your goals was to learn how to play the entire Vanara soundtrack. 
Ellie assumed she simply enjoyed being in your space. She does, but something shifted between you during one specific session. It was past midnight, and Ellie could tell you were getting tired. She innocently suggested for you to spend the night so you wouldn’t have to Uber at such a late hour, and you graciously accepted her offer. When you started to get comfortable on the couch, she tuts in disapproval and invited you to share her bed because it was more comfortable. 
What a mistake. 
After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, you both crawled into bed and swiftly drifted off. When Ellie’s eyes opened the following morning, her heart immediately traveled up to sit in her throat. If anyone told her she’d wake up with you completely sprawled out on top of her with your warm breath hitting her neck and her arms wrapped around you, she wouldn’t have believed them. She was completely frozen beneath you, but not for the reason she’d assumed. 
Ellie was scared to wake you up. Ellie was scared you would move away from her. 
She was pulled between waking you up and pulling you even closer. You were soft and warm and you smelled like her cinnamon body wash. A literal human cookie. She caressed your back as delicately as she could, and you nuzzled into her shoulder with every swipe. She hoped the harsh thrashes from her heart wouldn’t disturb you. 
They didn’t. 
You took a piece of Ellie when you left her apartment that morning. She’s not sure which part you stole, but she hasn’t felt the same since then. A pull towards you that’s electric, sparks her to life, keeps her up at night. Whenever you’re away, at work, not next to her, she’s desperate to pull you close. To breathe in the natural scent of you. 
Evidently, crushes develop rather quickly. 
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“I thought baking was supposed to be fun.” Ellie huffs from where she lays on her bed. 
“It is fun! My favorite past-time, actually,” She watches you pace around her bedroom, guitar still strapped securely around your shoulder, “It’s just stressful when you have chefs constantly breathing down your neck. It’s so hard to be creative because they nitpick everything.” 
Creating a menu is much harder than Ellie assumed. She’s become the person you’ve come to whenever you’re fired up from classes, ranting and raving about the apparent dickheads that judge your creations. After testing your recipes for as long as she has, how could anyone turn down a dessert from you? 
You’re such a hard-worker. Focused, determined… pretty when you’re brainstorming. Pretty when you’re talking… Pretty when you’re smiling. Standing. Staring off into the distance. 
“Hm.” 
It’s all Ellie can say. She’s been trying to mask her rampant stares at your bare thighs for the past… however the fuck long. They look so soft. So pliable. So easy to stretch and pry and yank at— 
Her guilty pleasure went from collecting Pokémon cards to gawking at your legs whenever you wear shorts. 
Ellie’s definitely crushing. 
Crushing very, very hard. 
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awrkive · 5 months ago
Text
NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK
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in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS
NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO
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You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.
But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)
In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.
“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.
“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”
“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”
He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”
You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.
“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”
“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.
“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.
“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”
Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.
“Oh my god, really?”
Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”
“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.
You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.
“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”
You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.
“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.
“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”
“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”
“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.
“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.
“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”
"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.
He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.
"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!" 
Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.
For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.
The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.
Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.
“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”
Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.
You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”
“Offense taken.”
“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”
Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)
“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”
“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.
“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.
“Fuck off, seriously.”
Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”
“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.
“That’s my biggest act of love.”
“I don't want it.”
“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”
“Double it again and give it to the next person?”
Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”
That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”
“When did I ever lie to you?”
You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”
“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”
“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”
Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.
“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.
Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.
“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”
“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”
If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.
“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”
It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”
“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.
Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."
"Oh, nice."
Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”
“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.
“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.
“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”
“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.
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You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.
It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.
Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.
As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.
You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.
This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?
"You need help, ma'am?"
"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.
And Jesus Christ, indeed.
He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.
What the fuck.
What the fuck!
It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.
The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.
Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?
You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.
"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.
But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?
You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.
Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?
As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.
Fuck.
You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.
But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.
“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."
The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.
You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.
“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.
“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.
He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.
"It's okay, ma'am."
He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.
“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.
You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."
"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."
Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."
The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.
"Nice coincidence, huh?"
A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.
"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.
He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.
"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”
“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”
The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”
From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.
“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”
His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”
“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.
“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.
"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."
"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.
What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?
"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."
The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.
"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."
You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.
"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”
You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.
“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”
He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.
Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.
“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.
“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”
"It's an exchange, then. Deal."
"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.
You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.
“Hey, so I’m going in—”
“What about we—”
“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”
The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”
“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”
“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”
“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.
“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”
You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.
“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.
It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.
“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”
“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.
When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.
And then fake-cried.
You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.
You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR
It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.
cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒
You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer
cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times
You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think
cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀
You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.
cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell
You [5:49pm]: 🤭
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There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.
You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.
Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."
Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.
Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.
In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.
It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.
Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.
As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.
Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,
"Hi."
When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"
"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."
You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.
"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."
He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."
"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."
Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you
"I'm Jungkook."
It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.
Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.
You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.
Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.
Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.
Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.
"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.
"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.
In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.
"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"
Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.
"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.
Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that! 
Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."
You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.
The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."
A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.
You heard Jungkook do the same.
This was ridiculous.
"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.
Not in front of Jungkook.
"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."
You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.
As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.
"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."
"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.
"Totally."
And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.
"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"
You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."
"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.
"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.
Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.
"I have to learn your ways, then."
"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."
You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."
You decided to ride along with that.
"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.
He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."
"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."
"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.
"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."
Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.
"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."
Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away. 
You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.
"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"
You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.
"Oh, that's actually surprising."
A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.
"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."
Oh.
"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."
"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."
"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.
"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.
God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.
"So, you're like, fifty, then?"
Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."
"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"
He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."
Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.
"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!
Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.
What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.
"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.
"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.
You brought your hands up.
"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."
Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.
"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"
"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.
"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.
"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"
He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."
"Oh, that's cool."
You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.
Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him. 
You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?
"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"
Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.
"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"
"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.
Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.
"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."
You chuckled.
"Yeah. Totally."
Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.
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The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.
"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"
"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."
"That's insane."
You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.
Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.
But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.
"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.
"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."
"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.
He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com. 
"Yeah."
"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.
Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."
"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?
"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."
"He must be really cute. What's his name?"
"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"
"Sure!"
Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.
Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.
"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.
"I'm flattered you think that."
"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."
"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.
Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.
You nodded. "For business, right?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.
"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."
Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.
"My best friend's from Busan too."
"Really? What about you?"
You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."
"Seoul is an interesting place, though."
"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.
The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.
As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
"You mind if we walk together to the building?"
You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.
"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"
"Sure... my five-eleven self is."
You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!
"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."
Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.
"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.
You gasped audibly.
"Oh, shut up,"
You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.
"I'm kidding!"
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You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).
But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.
On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.
As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.
The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.
Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.
Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.
On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.
You never asked, it never came up either.
Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.
Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.
Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.
It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.
Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.
He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.
In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.
But with Jungkook... was it different.
You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.
Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.
"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.
"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.
They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.
After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.
"Oh my god, how do they have these?"
"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"
"Yeah!"
You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.
And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.
Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.
1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)
That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano
As soon as you read the first message, another one came.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)
You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.
You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo
Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good
You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite
What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.
Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.
You found you liked it that way. 
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻
And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.
You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless. 
And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.
He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.   
When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.
You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.
Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.
Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.
"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."
As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.
Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.
But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.
Wow.
Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...
You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.
It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.
And my goodness, did it make you feel things.
You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.
"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."
You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.
Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.
You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.
"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.
"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."
At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.
"We should do that sometime."
"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.
He chuckled and waved you off.
"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.
You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.
"What's the catch?"
"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.
You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."
"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk. 
"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.
He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.
"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."
Your eyebrows met.
"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."
"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."
"Oh."
You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.
He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.
He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.
"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.
"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."
Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.
"If I win."
He said, smiling at you.
This was dangerous.
The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!
Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...
But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.
So you did what you do best.
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"Would you like to donate to the poor?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."
The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.
"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.
"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.
Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."
"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.
See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.
Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.
You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.
"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.
Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.
"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.
You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.
"Did you really...?"
It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.
"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."
You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.
"The important reason being... meeting me?"
"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.
From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"
Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.
"It's kinda... bummer news."
"You're pregnant?"
"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.
"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.
What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.
"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes. 
Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.
"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.
Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."
"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"
He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!
"He's going to Italy."
"Oh."
When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.
"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.
You thought, that's tomorrow.
As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.
"I know."
"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.
Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.
"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."
That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.
"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"
Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."
"Jimin." You tilted your head.
He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.
There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.
"I know. I just..."
"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."
Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."
You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."
"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."
"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you. 
You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.
"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."
The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.
After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...
You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.
"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.
Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.
Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."
As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.
"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"
Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."
"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"
You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."
"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."
"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.
With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.
Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"
"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.
"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"
"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."
He gasped, quite dramatically.
"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."
"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."
"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."
You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."
"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.
"God, you're just never beating me at this."
"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."
"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.
Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.
"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."
He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.
"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"
The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.
"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"
"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.
Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"
"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.
Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"
"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."
His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.
"You... slut."
You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.
"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.
This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.
"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.
"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."
Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"
God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.
"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."
Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"
"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."
Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.
"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.
You shook your head.
"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."
Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.
"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.
"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.
"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.
"Who do you think your best friend is?"
You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.
"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."
Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."
"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."
You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either. 
"We're gonna have to freestyle."
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Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.
Tonight, it was at their mansion.
You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.
Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.
The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.
Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.
You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.
Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.
It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.
The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.
Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.
"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.
"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.
Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"
"Hey,"
Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.
"Oh, Junghyun!"
Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."
"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"
"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.
"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.
"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"
"It's __." you filled in.
"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.
Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."
Jimin cleared his throat.
"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.
You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.
"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"
Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?
Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."
"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.
If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.
"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"
"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.
Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you. 
"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."
Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.
"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.
"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.
"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."
Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.
You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.
"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.
You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.
"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.
Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.
"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.
Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.
You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.
Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.
"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.
"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.
"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.
"We'll see."
Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.
Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.
Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.
"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"
Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."
"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.
Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.
"Oh."
The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost. 
You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.
"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."
"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.
"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.
"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.
You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.
"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"
They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.
It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.
Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. 
This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.
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It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.
If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.
When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.
The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.
Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!
From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.
Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?
There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.
"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.
You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.
What the fuck. What the fuck!  Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?
As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!
Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.
cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?
You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.
You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse
cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔
"Shit!"
Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.
cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss
You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.
Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.
That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.
You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.
Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.
In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.
"Hey, you just landed?"
If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.
"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"
It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."
"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.
cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????
You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.
What the hell did he mean by that?
Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...
Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?
Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.
But maybe you should have.
Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.
Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO  for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department
You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.
So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.
You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.
You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here
cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying
You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??
cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it  cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????
You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.
You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss
cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF
You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon
cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there
You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing
cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice
You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.
You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.
"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"
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PART TWO | ....
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all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3
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reallifepotato · 1 year ago
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Finally came in the mail
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luveline · 6 months ago
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Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤
thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k
“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 
Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 
He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 
“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 
He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 
“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 
“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 
“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 
You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 
“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 
He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 
He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 
It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 
He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 
He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 
Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 
In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 
Today, right now, that’s crackers. 
“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 
“I’m back,” she agrees. 
“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 
“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 
Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 
He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 
“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 
Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 
He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 
“I’m just changing!” 
“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 
You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 
“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 
She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 
“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 
“Yes please, daddy.” 
Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  
“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 
“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 
“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 
Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 
“What’s wrong?” you ask. 
He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 
“Yes, please,” Sarah says.
You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 
He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 
“Thanks, daddy.” 
You breathe in. 
Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 
“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 
Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 
“She did.” 
“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 
“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.
“She just loves you,” you say. 
“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 
You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 
“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 
You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 
He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 
Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 
“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 
“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 
Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 
He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 
“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 
“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 
“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 
“Big changes.” 
He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 
Your shoulders finally relax. 
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fairyofshampgyu · 8 months ago
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☆ Not as Tough as You Look !
genre: smut, crack
paring: emo vinyl store worker ! beomgyu x vinyl collector ! reader
Warnings: sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, choking !!!! grinding, riding, creampie, handjob, hair pulling, nipple play, degrading, fucking in a record store but there’s no one there, beomgyu has his nipples pierced and a thigh tattoo hehe and also his eyebrow pierced bc why not he’d look so fine
Word count: 3.7k
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With your crippling vinyl collection addiction, you ticked off yet another record store on your list with a sigh, making your way to the next using trusty google maps and a determined gaze.
So far, you hadn’t been able to find your favourite band, Red Jellyfish’s vinyl in any of the stores you’d been in and you’d made it your sole mission to check out every single record store in your city in hopes of finding it to add to your ever growing collection.
It wasn’t the most financially stable hobby, yes, what with some records being so unreasonably pricey these days. And yes, technically you could listen to the albums for free online anytime instead. But that defeated the purpose! They just wouldn’t get the satisfying feeling of owning a shelf of your own physical music and whenever you added more to it. Also, music just sounded so much better spinning around on a record player in your bedroom and adding to the nostalgic ambience and aesthetic. It simply made you content.
Obtaining Red Jellyfish currently, however, was serving as a difficult task. It was always the case with more obscure bands but it just made it more riveting trying to find vinyl for them.
You arrived at the next, walking in and the arrays of endless records welcoming you, the place had a funky 70s vibe to it and was decorated as so with a cool layout. You noticed a listening booth, unusual to have in most record shops nowadays and this one was also unusually large, serving more as a separate small room with a record player and sofas so customers could have a listen. You loved listening booths and this definitely was a very cool record store. You’d be coming in again for sure.
Your thoughts are quickly dissipated, however, at the sight of the very cute worker stood behind the counter. You stop in your tracks and find yourself unable to look away, the purpose of why you actually came in the first place long forgotten.
He was unbelievably attractive with a long, shaggy wolfcut and bangs that half covered his eyes, adorned with an eyebrow piercing that added to his emo-esque look, sporting an oversized band shirt and baggy jeans and he had the most prettily sculpted features ever. The bottom of his soft brown eyes underlined ever so slightly with black eyeliner making his gaze rather intimidating.
“Hey, do you need any help?”
That snaps you back from your reverie and you jolt, unsure how long you were just weirdly observing him.
“Huh? Oh…no. Just looking….” Wow, even his voice was really nice.
He raises his pierced eyebrow at that and a knowing smile breaks onto his face. “Yeah? At what exactly? Vinyls or someone?” He bursts into laughter then and you feel your cheeks heat up, cocky and confident waves radiating off of him. Oh, he knew he was hot.
“W-what? No!” You scoff and clear your throat, embarrassed.
He chuckles still and beams at you, brushing his bangs away from his face with his hands, rings scattered on some of his fingers. God, even his hands were attractive. “Uh huh. But seriously, Would you like any assistance? It is my job after all.”
“Well actually,” You clear your throat and straighten your posture, attempting to play it cool and forget, you were still on a mission, you must not get side tracked by pretty boys. “you wouldn’t happen to have the band Red Jellyfish would you?”
His eyes light up almost immediately, “No way! I love Red Jellyfish. I’ve never come across another fan before! And we certainly do.” He grins and disappears into the back, soon arriving with the vinyl in hand and excitedly handing it to you, “They’re finally coming out with a second album after years. I’m so excited!”
“Same. I didn’t think they’d ever end up making music again after how long their hiatus was.” You enthusiastically agree, happy to find someone who also shared a liking for the band.
“Wouldn’t really take you to listen to emo music to be honest...” The cute emo boy looks you up and down, referring to your not so dark and edgy outfit and he’s grinning again.
“Yeah well, I guess you could say I have a pretty eclectic music taste.” You shrug, rolling your eyes jokingly at him. “Although I'm not really well versed on emo music besides that.”
You notice his big brown eyes beam even more with excitement, beginning to talk animatedly. “You should definitely listen to more. It’s great and it has a lot of range and sub genres and there’s some really good bands and! And-“ He rubs the back of his head sheepishly and stops himself, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry, you just want to pay for your album and go.” He smiles apologetically at you and presses buttons on the cash register instead to calculate the price for you.
You shake your head and laugh, finding it more so endearing. "No. In fact, you’ve convinced me. I’ll definitely get into it more and listen to some bands. I wouldn’t know where to start though.” You’d let him talk your ear off all day to be honest. He was super cute.
His eyes turn into little crescent moons at that as he smiles broadly and you can’t help swooning internally once again. “Ooh I definitely have to give you some recs and make you a playlist! What’s your number?”
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That’s how you find yourself squealing after leaving the store and not only managing to obtain the album you’d been extensively searching for, but also the very, very hot emo boy worker’s number. You’ll be telling your friend Soobin for sure all about it.
The emo boy indeed had a name, you'd discovered after exchanging numbers, Beomgyu, he’d told you. And you hadn’t been able to get the name out of your head ever since.
Him making a playlist for you didn’t really mean anything, he was just giving recommendations and being nice and friendly. But still, you’ll allow yourself to be a bit delusional about it. It was still a cute boy making a playlist for you! Even if it was pretty impersonal.
Later on into the night you receive a text that makes you giddy all over.
Hey, it’s Beomgyu ! We met earlier at the record shop. I made the playlist of emo recs already hehe :) let me know what u think ;)
Along with the text was a Spotify link to the playlist, spending your whole night just listening to it.
As you got to know the genre better. You appreciated it a lot more and found you actually liked a lot of the songs, particularly the more screamo ones. The screaming and whining itched your brain and you were fascinated how much vocal control they had to be able to scream yet sing at the same time. You make a mental note of all your favourites and decide to tell him in person, since it’d give an excuse to see him again.
You walk to the store the next day and you're glad to see him behind the counter and not someone else. “I listened to all the songs. They were really good.”
“Already?” He raises his brow in surprise to see you again, lopsided grin on his face and head tilted.
“Well…yeah?” You scratch your head. You don’t why you feel slightly embarrassed about that.
Beomgyu leans over the counter excitedly, “Which ones did you like?” Suddenly, a vinyl album comes full swinging at Beomgyu and smacks the back of his head hard. You stand, astonished. “Oww! What the fuck?” Beomgyu rubs his poor head in attempt to soothe it and turns around to the suspect.
"You better be working and not talking your ass off, Choi Beomgyu!!" His manger, yeonjun, you observe from his tag comes into view and stands with narrowed eyes at him.
“I’m taking a break!” Beomgyu waves with his hand, trying to shoo him away so he could continue his conversation with you.
“You just started your shift?!!”
“So! 9-5s are hard…” Beomgyu pouts and looks at you as if to back him up.
Yeonjun shakes his head, hand to his nose bridge, "You know I'd fire you right?"
"You wouldn't because you love me. And I’m your best friend." Beomgyu proudly smirks to him.
"Debatable..." Yeonjun sighs defeatedly and walks off to restock a shelf instead, beomgyu completely ignoring him and returning back to the conversation with you.
After that, you become close friends with the boy, frequenting the vinyl shop for records, but mostly an excuse just so you could converse with him. You seem to develop a music recommending relationship, sharing playlists and recommending each other songs and then giving your own opinions and reviews to each other.
To be honest, getting to hangout with beomgyu like that was the highlight of your days and you’d grown to like him a lot. He was fairly easy going and nice to talk to, even if the conversation fell short on your side given you weren’t that socially competent, he always managed to keep it going and you loved hearing his funny ramblings and stories he’d passionately go on about. You found a lot of what he did just so endearing.
He was also a massive flirt. And it seemed you weren’t the only person who noticed just how hot the boy behind the counter was as a lot of the times you were there, girls and boys were batting their eyelashes up at him and coming into the store just to flirt with him too. You didn’t blame them at all. He'd flirt with you from time to time as well but you tried not to dwell too much on it, figuring it was simply just his personality.
Even if you were just probably friends, you were happy to have gained a friendship either way. He brought colour into your usual mundane day to day living and you hadn’t made a new genuine friend in so long, something that was seemingly rarer the more you got into adulthood. And so, you just appreciated the friendship. Even if you had developed the teeniest crush on him. Well, probably more than that.
Soobin had been nagging you for days on end about wanting to see this beomgyu guy for himself you'd talk about and doubting that he was so fine like you say, that you end up giving in and deciding to drag him along to the record store with you as well one day.
Upon seeing you walk in, Beomgyu's eyes light up happily, resembling that of a puppy seeing their owner finally arriving back home and he smiles widely...then he sees the tall guy following in behind you and his demeanour suddenly changes, head tilted and frowning, lips more in a pout.
Once you walk up to the counter with a vinyl Soobin wanted, beomgyu stares coldly and cautiously for a rather strange time at the tall blonde innocently sipping on his boba tea besides you and eventually speaks up. "Is he like, your...boyfriend?"
Soobin splutters and chokes on his drink and both of you wave your hands in a frenzy, "No!"
"Oh!" And he's back to his usual cheery self, smiling contently, a bit unsettling to both you and soobin as you exchange a wary look. "Yeah. It’s good he isn’t…” Beomgyu stares back at soobin with a look of such distaste and disgust.
You leave the store after paying not without trying to reassure a grumbly Soobin who looked like he was about to throw hands any second. “What did he mean it's good he isn't?!” He mocks beomgyu’s voice and scoffs. “I feel offended! Is he saying I’d make a bad boyfriend?! He doesn’t like me? Well I don’t like him. Bitch.”
You sigh, patting your frowning friend on the back, not sure what else to say at the strange interaction.
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Finally, the day Red Jellyfish’s new album drops arrives and although it took absolutely everything in you not to listen to it instantly, both you and beomgyu had promised each other you’d listen together in the listening booth after his shift. So the day seems to drag on and on as you anticipate and impatiently waited for the evening when beomgyu would at last finish.
You zoom to the store when it’s finally time, seeing him tidying and closing up. You sit down onto the vintage orange funky sofa in the listening booth as beomgyu placed the album into the record player before taking a seat next to you, both holding in your breath as the first track plays, and then swapping an excited glance with widened eyes to each other as soon as the guitar melody starts playing and the bass also comes in, both remaining silent as you enjoy the song and listen attentively to what was going on. It was already so sick.
Once it ends you both excitedly gush over the new song before the second tracks rolls on. It’s a lot slower and more dreamy and ambient. The guitar distorted and playing a pretty rolling arpeggio and giving off the genre of a more shoegaze piece.
You stare at beomgyu’s concentrated face and he stares back. He really is so gorgeous, the pretty song seemingly reflecting this as you can’t help but admire him. You can’t help it either when your eyes flicker to his seriously pretty rounded lips for a second, wondering what it’d feel like to have them pressed with yours…
It seems it doesn’t go unnoticed by beomgyu either as he shuffles even closer to you, his scent intoxicating you as he grins smugly, looking down at your own lips that has you malfunctioning. He tucks in a strand of your hair behind your ear, still gazing and corners of his mouth pulling up, smiling at you.
There’s this underlying tension and the album you’d been heavily anticipating for months, the last thing on your mind, dissolving into background noise as the only thing you can think of is beomgyu and how close he is to you. It’s hard to hold back anymore.
He inches closer and closer and he kisses you. Finally kisses you, and you melt into the kiss with him, making out fervently.
He pulls you into his lap, gripping your waist and tracing kisses on your neck instead that makes you gasp. “Couldn’t help it anymore…so pretty. Always make my day whenever you walk in.” Beomgyu whispers lowly, brushing his lips lightly against your ear which makes you shiver and the corners of his mouth curl into that stupid grin you’ve seen many times.
But then you decide to roll your hips against his and grind against his cock in his jeans and he falters instantly, mouth parting ‘o’ shaped and he whimpers high pitched, so unlike him. His ears and cheeks flush red and your movements stop. “S-shit sorry. Did I ruin it? That was really weird, fuck. Sorry.” Beomgyu averts your gaze, apologising profusely and embarrassed, bottom lip quivering slightly you notice. His whole demeanour changes. You’ve only ever seen beomgyu embarrassed a short handful of times, usually so sure of himself, but it only makes you go more crazy for him.
“Wanna act all tough but a little grinding is all it takes and it’s all crumbling down, huh?” You grin trying not to laugh, finding the boy and the way he’s shying underneath you suddenly so amusing. He still doesn’t make eye contact, cheeks even more impossibly red, “Look at me, baby.” You lift his chin up, seeing the way he reacts to the pet name, his eyes slightly widening.
“No. Don’t want to. Too embarrassed.” Beomgyu pouts cutely, you chuckle and coo at him, stroking his cheek which he leans into. You begin to grind against him again and take the lead in kissing him, his hands shaking and gripping your waist even tighter as he attempts to stifle his whimpers, eyes tightly shut. You kiss and suck down his neck as well, determined to leave hickeys in their wake. You’re surprised by how easily he submits to you. You like it a lot.
You pull the oversized band shirt he wears over his head and unzip his ripped jeans. The sight your met with however making you audibly gasp, his pink nipples prettily pierced through and the top of his plush thigh tattooed in a pattern of a heart and lines branching out like thorns. It makes you even more feral.
Gripping the pretty flesh of his tatted thigh, you begin to jerk off his cock which was flushed and leaking precum anyway as he waited for you to do something. He whines and moans into your ear as you pump your hand up and down on his length, head buried deep in your neck.
You can feel his heavy breaths and the drool on you and his whole body twitches and squirms when you place your free hand on one of his nipples instead, rolling the bud in your fingers and twisting which elicits a strangled moan out of him, clinging to you even tighter when you ruthlessly pump his cock, thumb toying with the slit on the head of dick and also still toying with his now puffy nipples. You can feel the drool dribble down your neck now. And you know he’ll cum any second, added ministrations on his pretty tits not helping him from restraining at all, so sensitive especially ever since he got them pierced.
“F-fuckk..hah..Please. Can I cum?” He removes his head from your neck to look up at you with wet doe eyes. He’s so unexpectedly pliant in your hands, you’d give him anything if he looked up at you like that. And so you do, allowing him to cum, he whines loudly and squirts making a pretty mess, cum coating his tattoo on his thigh.
You’re not anywhere near done with him yet though and you hover over his dick, bringing the head to slide over your entrance and folds a few times before you sink completely down on his wet and sticky cock. Beomgyu throws his head back and groans, biting his lip hard at the feeling of his cock inside your warm pussy and you begin to slowly ride him, sucking in air loudly.
“Mmh fuck pull my hair too. It’s okay I like it rough-ah s-shit. Can take anything you give me” Beomgyu stutters and throws an arm over his head, eyebrows deeply furrowed.
So you tug and pull at the strands of his long hair and tangle and run your hands in his scalp, it makes him moan even louder, looking absolutely in bliss, you could tell just how much he liked his hair being pulled and pull with even more force, his eyes glazing up and mind all mushy and hazy now as you continued to fuck him and tug on his scalp. He looked so slutty and you can’t help telling him.
“Such a slut.” He just whines loudly in response. “You like being called a slut, huh? Wanna be my toy, my pet, my slut?
“Y-yeah-ah so good-holyy s-shit” He just nods vigorously, so dumbed out at this point, jaw hanging dumbly open. “W-wait squeeze my neck please.…”
You didn’t think beomgyu would be such a freak either.
“Are you sure, beomgyu?”
He strenuously nods and begs you. “Yeahh..need it please. I can take anything.” He gently takes your hand on his own and brings it to press down on his neck. He still stares at you with his big round brown eyes. It was honestly a confusing juxtaposition, the way he looked at you innocently whilst asking you to do something so obscene as choking him.
You squeeze his pretty neck either way and watch as he hisses and his face scrunches up gorgeously, veins in his neck popping out and grunting, you fuck him ruthlessly bouncing on his cock and the squelching so loud and clear and evident despite the music still playing on the record player.
You can’t help feeling possessive over him, finally having him beneath you, all yours to use, remembering all the girls that come in everyday to flirt with him and you get to have him all to yourself . Imagine the look on their faces if they could see beomgyu right now, your hands still lightly squeezing his neck and riding him. You kinda wish you could mark him all over.
“H-harder…choke me harder” Beomgyu gulps.
It makes your pace on his cock even faster and so rough and you press down on his neck ever harder. His jaw clenches, neck and face red and eyebrows furrowed. He gasps for air, letting out the prettiest loud and whiny breathy noises.
His breath hitches with every unrelenting bounce on his cock and he struggles to breathe, eyes heavy lidded and so fucked out, a distant look on his face, you press down just a little bit more on his neck and his eyes roll to back of his head, a long strangled high pitched moan coming out of him as he bucks his hips up and convulses, spurting heaps of his cum inside you and it brings you over the edge too. He can’t stop cumming it seems, shaking and endlessly panting and still squirting inside you as you basically milk him. You can see the red imprint of your hand on his pretty neck along with the numerous hickeys you left, it was definitely a sight to see.
It takes a while for beomgyu to recover from his high after how good you fucked him but he eventually speaks up, clinging to you. “Sooo, I got two tickets to see red jellyfish…Would you possibly want to go with me?” He grins and pants, biting his lip, still out of breath and bangs damp from sweat, pierced eyebrow raised and head tilted as he waited your answer.
You chuckle wrapping your arms around him tightly, kissing him again. “I’d love to.”
Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)
A/n: this is probably really messy bc I haven’t proof read. Writer’s block is actually so hard 😭😭 *just a little note-if anything seems familiar it is probably bc my mind has never been sane ever since hey emo boy! by koqabear. It is the emo beomgyu blueprint and literally birthed emo beomgyu <33
2K notes · View notes
chaotic-mystery · 3 months ago
Text
PROFESSOR’S PET
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Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.
Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?
Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.
Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||
“You want me to do what?”
It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.
He couldn’t have been serious.
“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.
“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”
“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”
He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.
“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”
You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.
“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.
“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.
He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.
“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”
His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.
The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.
“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.
Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.
The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.
You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.
Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.
There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.
You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.
“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.
So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”
He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.
Focus.
You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.
“I got it. Botticelli.”
“Nice choice. Why him?”
You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.
“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.
“I’m sorry, Joel.”
You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.
“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”
Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.
“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”
You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.
“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”
Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.
“What do you mean, professor?”
“Come here, I’ll show you.”
He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.
“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”
You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.
“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”
You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.
“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.
“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.
“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.
“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.
He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.
“Do you trust me?”
Without hesitation you nod yes.
“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.
“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”
That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.
His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.
“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.
For the purpose of learning, right?
Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.
“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.
“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”
His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.
“Joel, I-”
“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”
His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.
“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.
You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.
His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.
“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.
“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”
His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.
“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”
“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.
“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.
He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.
“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”
You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.
“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.
“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.
The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.
He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.
“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.
“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”
872 notes · View notes
chaostudee · 3 months ago
Text
smooth operator , carlos sainz.
summary : y/n is a journalist just starting out her career in the motorsport industry, it's not long for her to find an attraction to a certain ferrari driver. warnings : none faceclaim : lissie mackintosh a/n : first carlos fic 🤭 my fav forever and ever.
y/nusername first day on the job 🏁🏎
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liked by skysportsf1, nataliepinkham, crofty and 56,910 others.
nataliepinkham so proud of you !!
y/nusername ❤️
user829 eeek my fav
username000 the fit ateeee
skysportsf1 welcome to the family :)
y/nfan insanely proud of you wtfff can't wait for the futureee
f1updates i love her already she seems like the sweetest
user_f1 fr 😩
y/nusername quali day 🤭
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》 y/bsfusername the fit ateee
》 user82 i love your interview style smmm
》 username_20 she is so prettyyyy
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carlossainz great quali let's push for tomorrow 💪
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liked by y/nusername, scuderiaferrari, charlesleclerc and 1,293,100 others.
user290 he's so lana del rey vinyl 😩
f1fan_67 dyingggg
f1username that quali was insaneeee
user92 frrr like wdym charles and carlos on the front row tf?!
y/nfan help not y/n in the liked is carlos the f1 driver she has a crush on????
user200 if it is.....she's so real and i get it plus i love her even more.
naomischiff my girl <3
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liked by y/nusername, carlossainz , nataliepinkham and 120,622 others.
y/nusername my fav actually
user120 new duo and i'm here for it 🙌🙌
f1fan my biggest inspirations acc
y/nlover carlos in the likes (i just know that y/n is dying rn)
user10 girl look at her twitter 😭😭 y/nlover help plsss
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y/nusername new video incoming
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》 user92 UM YES
》 username11 oh im so ready
》 f1fan one more person closer to carlos ☝️
》 y/nusername i like your thinking ;)
y/nusername hot lap with nico hulkenberg, you can watch now on skysportsf1 !!
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liked by nicohulkenberg, skysportsf1, naomischiff and 322,671 others.
user89 this ate
danielriccardo NICO HUUULKENBERGGGG
y/nusername DANIEELLLLL RICCARDOOOO
nicohulkenberg had the best time thanks y/n !!
f1fan not y/n just casually interacting with all the f1 drivers (love that for you queen)
f1wagupdates my queen pls i love her smmm
justaninchident i love this duo smm
y/nusername singapore gp !!
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liked by carlossainz, skysportsf1, nataliepinkham and 267,233 others.
user SHES SO HOT OMG
f1fan my fav f1 girl likeeee my queen my iconnn my everything
skysportsf1 WE LOVE YOU Y/N
justaninchident help they are just like us 😭
user_67 y/n needs to make a fashion inspo acc at this point because i'm obsessed with everything she wears.
f1lover_90 i love y/n more than myself atp
scuderiaferrari interview of carlos and charles with y/n out now !!
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liked by charlesleclerc, carlossainz, y/nusername and 1,897,332 others.
justaninchident WHAT IN THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS IS THIS
user literally cause i'm not okay acc
user718 did anyone else see the way carlos looked at y/n because....DAMMMMNN
y/nusername the best time :)
f1fan oh to be y/n
user101 y/n and carlos content eeeeek (real ones have been waiting months for this)
f1lover_67 thank u ferrari we all say in unison.
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y/nusername if you can dream it, you can do it
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liked by carlossainz, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux and 569,000 others.
carlossainz you look good in red ❤️
y/nusername ty !! user20 wtffff omggg username_22 BRO WHAT f1fan UM so this is insane 😃
justaninchident god she's gorgeous
alexandrasaintmleux you are literally my fashion inspo
user "everyone's a ferrari fan"
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alexandrasaintmleux
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》 y/nusername had the best time meeting you <3
》 user omgggg
》 f1fan ferrari wags??
》 user_89 freaking tf outtttt
y/nusername in my lover girl era 💗
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liked by f1, naomischiff, alexandrasaintmleux and 714,910 others.
user omg whatttt
f1fan is that carlos or am i delulu?!?!
justaninchident NO BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT I WAS THINKING
user_67 IM FREAKING OUT
f1fan our girl is officially ofc the market omgg
user190 no wonder she hasn't been active on twitter recently
naomischiff so happy for you my sweet girl <3
alexandrasaintmleux 💗
carlossainz
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》 y/nusername ugh you're so hottt
》 user omlll
》 f1fan wow.
》 justaninchident god damnnnn
y/nusername guess the cat is out of the bag ;)
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liked by carlossainz, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 980,901 others.
user819 WHAT WHAT WHAT
justaninchident i died
user_67 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
f1fan girlie literally manifested it SHOW ME YOUR WAYS Y/N PLS
y/nusername crystals
f1wagupdates eeeek
landonorris my man has been stolen from me
y/nusername im sorryyy but we can share landonorris okay fair but remember HE WAS MINE FIRST
carlossainz ilysm beautiful
y/nusername i love you more handsome
carlossainz dinner date with my girl ❤️
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liked by y/nusername, charlesleclerc, landonorris and 2,719,469 others.
y/nusername you always take the best pics of me 🤭
carlossainz it's hard to take a bad one when you look beautiful all the time
charlesleclerc el matador el matador
y/nusername CARLOS SAINZ
landonorris cute ig
user718 ugh i acc love them
justaninchident LIKE WDYM I LIVE IN A UNIVERSE WHERE CARLOS AND Y/N ARE TOGETHER
f1fan fav f1 driver fav wag
user10 never getting over them acc
user_67 im so single
taglist ⭑.ᐟ
@lottalove4evelyn
@llando4norris
@hadidsworld
@mxryxmfooty
689 notes · View notes